Moment of Triumph
by Krisa612
Summary: A pivotal moment in one young man's life and career on the Death Star. Rated K, mildly implied violence.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own or pretend to own or aspire to own any of the SW franchise. I don't expect or plan or want to profit in any way from this other than to practice writing.

**Moment of Triumph**

Crisp. Clean. That's how the universe feels right now. That's how I feel right now. And how I feel right now is probably something I'll remember for the rest of my days- after all, how many times in one's life does one experience the first few minutes of one's career? Well, for me, it better only be once, because Dad certainly went through hell to get this job for me. And I mean _hell_. Do you know how hard it is for Alderaanians to get jobs in the Imperial Navy these days? Especially _real_ jobs. Jobs that aren't below the sons of important foreign dignitaries. I mean, we aren't even really from Alderaan; Mother and Dad just moved there a little before I was born. We're Coruscanti born and bred, really. Sort of. But that doesn't matter anymore these days. These days, what with the Viceroy making trouble in the Senate and the rumors floating around that the Princess is involved with the Rebellion, it's hard for loyal Imperials who happen to live on Alderaan to show their faces anywhere. And even harder for their sons to get jobs. This is why I really need to not mess up. How many people can say their first ever position was as a Junior Officer on the first ever Death Star? Commanded by Governor Tarkin himself.

I breathe in nervously. It's okay. I'm the son of Navrin Estrell the fourth. No Estrell has ever failed at his task before, and I'm not about to be the first. I won't let Dad down. That's right. Calm. I'll picture my first furlough. It'll be great. Mother will be practically weeping with pride and happiness at seeing me again. After all, any job involving large war machines is dangerous…or, at least, women seem to believe that when you tell it to them. Lissa will be so jealous. She always wants me to teach her the stuff I learn at the Academy. (Yeah, right. The things I've learned are _not_ the sorts of things one tells their younger sister about. Or anyone's younger sister. Or any girls at all, for that matter.) And Dad. Dad will be proud, too. He'll be really grown-up and mature about it- maybe just shake my hand or something like that, but I'll be able to tell he's proud because of the way his eyes look. It'll be the proudest day of my life. After today, of course…

"Estrell, report to main control deck immediately," I hear suddenly. Crap. It's a senior officer. I hope he couldn't tell I was daydreaming…wait, is he winking at me? The officer who just spoke looks around the room, as if to make sure no one's watching, and suddenly whacks me on the back.

"Not bad, eh, Navrin? Main control deck on your first day," he says jovially. He doesn't appear to need an answer, which is lucky because I've only just regained my balance and am now coughing politely to cover the fact that he knocked the all the air right out of my lungs. Peering at him while he chuckles happily, I recognize him as the guy I used to call Uncle something-or-other when he used to visit dad, flirt with Mother, and give me pieces of candy (Coruscant candy that you can't get on Alderaan) before telling me to run along and play. Great.

"Well, your dad said to see if I could pull some strings and get you started nice and quick these first few weeks. Time's ripe, you know: Navy's never been stronger and you've got to snatch up those good positions, like mine, while you can. Heard a rumor that the Grand Moff is planning something big for today, so I asked an old friend of mine if he could have you up on the control deck for it. Owed me a favor and all, you know. Well, you'd better get up there and see what's going on. Come and tell me about it afterwards, too; I can get a high price for information like that…but you won't tell anyone else, will you, son?"

I nod and smile, and then point vaguely to the turbolift I need to take to get to the main control deck. Wow. The main control deck on my first day. I'd better remember to get that guy his information and thank him; Dad's often said that this is how things get done in the Navy.

There's another guy in the turbolift. Just a mainstream officer, but he really looks the part. I have to practice that look. The one where your eyes are staring straight ahead and your whole body is completely stiff and taut. Ready for anything…and impossible to upset. Maybe it's a mindset. Well, I don't have to practice that. I'm ready for anything right now. And I don't think anything could upset me – not today, not on the best day of my life.

"Lieutenant Estrell," says someone as soon as I step out of the turbolift on the main command deck level. I nod curtly and salute right away. So far, so good. Wouldn't it be great if I got promoted within my first week of work? Mother and Dad would practically burst to a millions pieces from happiness, I bet!

"Right over here," says the officer I just exchanged salutes with, "you'll find a briefing document on the viewscreen at your station." I salute again and walk over to the station, practicing that stiff walk that's not quite a march, but just as exact as one.

I barely have time to skim the briefing document (it looks like all I have to do is stand here until someone needs me for something…but it's okay, even being an extra in a place like this is amazing) before the officer says "Proceed." I glance around the room and dimly take in a girl who looks about my age (what's a girl doing here, anyway?) before I recognize the two people with her as Governor Tarkin and Darth Vader. _I'm standing in the same room as Governor Tarkin and Darth Vader!_ Some of the most powerful men in the universe! If I were that girl, I'd faint with excitement. Then again, I guess she probably doesn't understand how lucky she is. Then I turn my attention to where the order is being obeyed. One of the special pilot-class officers is doing something with levers and switches; I guess he must be getting ready for whatever we're about to do. I can barely contain the shiver of excitement that keeps threatening to mess up my special officer stance.

Suddenly, one of the older officers jumps up from his station and stamps his foot in an altogether un-officer-like way.

"No!" he shouts, and I can't keep myself from gasping. Right here, on my first day, I'm witnessing an officer's worst nightmare: going completely insane in front of superior officers. I thank the gods that, whatever it was that provoked him to do something so outrageous, I'm not him. Thank the gods I'm so self-controlled and disciplined, the way a _real_ officer should be. I can't wait to tell Dad about this.

"You can't do this," he shouts, "you can't do this…not like this…all those people…it's not right…" he's still shouting as somebody drags him away. I wonder vaguely what it is that's upset him enough to ruin his career when suddenly I hear my name.

"Lieutenant Estrell," says the cold voice of the deck's officer, right by my ear, "follow me."

I think I'm practically glowing with pride as he leads me towards the station the older officer occupied just a few seconds ago. This means a promotion for sure. I can't _wait_ to tell Dad! And Mother! And Lissa! And the whole of Alderaan, while I'm at it!

"Push this button, if you please," the deck officer says. I'm not sure what kind of shiver runs through my right then, as, for some reason, the older officer's words come back to me. Why didn't he want to do his job? What are we doing, anyway? Well, it doesn't matter. I need to do my job, and I need to do it well. That's the most important thing in my life; Dad has always told me that.

It only takes the tiniest bit of pressure from my gloved thumb to push the button. It feels satisfying; almost as satisfying as the pleased look on the deck officer's face as the person next to me does something with the lever at his station, and the guy after him pushes _his_ button. Someday soon, I'll be the officer standing and observing everyone doing their menial little tasks in perfect synchrony; I'll be the one making the synchrony happen, not deigning to do jobs that are below me like pushing buttons. But for now, it feels great, even just to be the toady of the officer standing behind me.

"No!" shouts the girl from the other side of the room. It's in that instant that I recognize her, too. Princess Leia of Alderaan. It's in that instant that my head swivels, almost automatically to look through the viewport, where there's a view that's one of the most familiar in the universe to me: Alderaan, spinning calmly on its axis (you do have to admit, even if it's not as great as Coruscant, it is a beautiful little planet). It's in that instant that I picture Mother and Dad and Lissa and everyone else I know down there, my reasons for doing well, for being alive, probably sitting down to dinner or something, not knowing how proud of me they should be right at this moment. It's in that instant that a jet of green light collects almost just out of my sight under the viewport, and I realize what I've done, what I've helped to do.

An instant later, my reasons for living have vanished into a million million fragments of something that can never be made whole again.

**A/N:** This is the result of a monthly challenge from DarthBudzy at ALW: the instructions were to write something about someone either on Alderaan or on the Death Star in the last few moments before the Alderaan was obliterated.


End file.
